


Eames Loves a Good Summer Extraction

by grizzly_bear_bane



Series: Hotels and Flats [1]
Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Barebacking, Bottom Arthur, Dream Sex, Eames is grateful for silicone-based lube, Fingerfucking, First Time, Fucking with clothes on, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Pool Sex, Porn With Plot, Size Kink, Top Eames, happy!Eames, speedo!Arthur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-20
Updated: 2013-04-20
Packaged: 2017-12-08 23:57:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/767604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grizzly_bear_bane/pseuds/grizzly_bear_bane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eames has only ever seen Arthur in his suits, so it’s a big surprise (and turn on) when a job takes them poolside in Miami. </p><p>In which, Arthur is a speedos man and Eames destroys Arthur's virginity under the hotel pool waterfall.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eames Loves a Good Summer Extraction

**Author's Note:**

> This is a nice little oneshot as epic thanks for all the support on the New Blood series thus far. You all rock most gloriously.
> 
> As always, comments, critiques, and suggestions are greatly appreciated and welcomed.
> 
> Enjoy!

 

++++

They were not on speaking terms again. Or at least, that’s what the Cobbs understood, when Arthur and Eames arrived separately for the job one midsummer afternoon in Miami.

It was one hell of a shame too. Eames had just barely gotten Arthur to loosen his tie before _whatshisface_ showed up at Eames’ flat with a new bottle of wine and box of condoms.

Yusuf had warned him: Take care of the one-night and sometimes two-night stands before you bring someone like Arthur – the one man Eames had chased and pined over for _an entire year_ after they met – to your flat.

It wasn’t that they ever agreed to be exclusive. Sometimes a job, or Arthur convincing himself that simply making out and soft petting under their shirts here and there was ‘just too much for him to deal with right now,’ would leave them apart on either ends of the world for months. And from what Eames gathered, Arthur actually liked giving Eames the freedom of not being exclusive, so that Arthur could take all the time he needed to adapt to not hating Eames and actually liking him a tiny bit. It meant that whatever it was that they'd been trying out together wouldn’t need a confining label, like boyfriend, or friend.

Eames had no idea that _whatshisface_ – Edward, maybe? Or was his name something like Edwin? – would come back for another round on the one day that Arthur would _finally_ want to have actual sex. He also had no idea that Arthur would punch him out over the situation either.

And now here he was, on his hands and knees taping his glock underneath his bed in the hotel room with Eames just staring longingly at his ass from the doorway. Dom stood beside him, going on about the mark, but he might as well have been stray seaweed outside on the beach.

He had been so incredibly close to taking Arthur apart.

Standing here, staring at Arthur’s ass, Eames realized he still had no idea what Arthur looked like under all those expensive clothes. Did he wear undershirts? Boxer-briefs?

What if Arthur wore nothing at all under his trousers?

Eames could have thrown himself off the balcony at that thought.

+

Not even the summer spirit of Miami could lighten Eames’ mood with this kind of job. It would be simple to execute, _but_ the catch was having to stay under with the mark for at least four hours in the dream. All other extraction attempts by a handful of other teams hadn’t worked. The mark needed time to open up and that was exactly what Cobb was going to give him. Along with Arthur as bait.

Eames wasn’t overly fond about his and the mark’s shared taste in men. Particularly since the mark was married. And sixty-eight years old.

Any extraction that had to take as long as this one could mean trouble. There was no way Arthur would last ten minutes, let alone four hours, in this dream at the mark’s pool party without it blowing up in their faces. As much as he loved Arthur’s tastes, a three-piece suit and suspenders couldn’t pass for a swimsuit.

+

“Cheer up, _mon cher_ ,” Mal offered that evening after dinner. She rubbed comforting circles over his bare arms. They stood on the balcony overlooking the boardwalk and all the lights and attractions of the nightlife below. “Perhaps this will give you more of a chance to fix things with Arthur?”

He chuckled. “Cheers to being overly optimistic. We’d need to be down there for ten years in order to for the Ice Queen to thaw out of those knickers.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” she teased, a knowing look in her eyes. “You don’t think it’s worth it?”

“Oh it’s worth it, all right,” he muttered, remembering how good it felt to have his arms around that tiny waist. He could still recall the exact moment when he’d seen Arthur’s full smile for the first time and how the world became just a little brighter when Arthur laughed at one of his jokes.

“I see,” she whispered. “Mr. Eames, are you in love with my Arthur?”

“In the most poetic way of explaining it, yes, Mal. Arse over tit,” he sighed.

Mal wrinkled her nose at the expression but smiled. “I’ll tell you a secret. Arthur has had a school boy crush on you for a very long time, but you always tease him too much.”

Now Eames understood the meaning of a cosmic joke. It wasn’t very funny.

She continued when he didn’t respond, “You both have feelings for each other, yes? Then what’s the matter with you two?”

Explaining the surprise guest in his flat story earned him a few slaps on his arms and Mal’s disapproving frown for the rest of the night while she doted over Arthur and talked with her husband.

Eames sat across the room as if Mal had put in him timeout.

He wasn’t hiding behind his laptop—but he was. Having Mal scold him was worse than when his own mother used to. And no, he definitely wasn’t pouting.

+

Eames thought about taking that balcony jump again the next evening when the mark finally saw Arthur. The pointman only had to walk by him, a passing glance, but he might as well have sat in the old man’s lap the way he eyed Arthur like a rabid dog and _whistled_.

He’d never seen Arthur in summer clothes, though his short sleeve button-down with its little sailboat prints and his suffield style shorts made him want to stick around on earth for at least another hour just to see those bare arms and legs for a little while longer. He wouldn’t say a word, but for a long time he’d been convince that Arthur was shy about showing his skin, or maybe he was covered in yakuza tattoos. Who else would have that body and not share it? And it stung that this was all happening now for the mark.

+

Having down time in another person’s subconscious could mean a lot of things. If the person’s mind wasn’t militarized – which, thankfully, this mark’s wasn’t – you could venture about, create on a small scale, and even embarrass yourself when your erection nearly tears through your swim shorts in front of Arthur.

It was obvious that they were in Eames’ dream the second the somnacin kicked in. The hotel was alive with attractive women and men who mingled and played around the lavish pool and bar. Eames stole a glass off a bikini-clad server’s tray and avoided all the eyes glued to his bare chest, instead he surveyed the scene. Dom looked odd in his short sleeve button-down and loose pants but Mal looked like a model in her colorful short dress.

Eames nearly gagged on his drink when he spotted the mark surrounded by twinks in various states of undress in the Jacuzzi.

Arthur was, well… where was Arthur? He couldn’t be hard to find in this crowd, but yet—

“Eames? I’m surprised you don’t have someone hanging off your arm yet,” the pointman’s voice drifted from behind him.

Eames turned. “Just waiting for you, Ar…” And blinked. Up and down. His mouth hung open. “Arthur… you…” What could he say?

Arthur was dripping, just out of the pool. His hands pushed his curling hair back, his skin glowed. Little droplets of water ran down his chest, caught on his nipples then down his navel, the lean cut of his abdomen, and to his speedo…

He was wearing a speedo.

“You just…” Eames swallowed. “Sorry. You… well I’m surprised,” was all the forger could manage.

Arthur shrugged one shoulder. “I wouldn’t be here in a three-piece suit, now would I? And I’ve got a mark to distract.” He twisted around slightly so Eames could see his backside. “Think this’ll work? I doubt a closeted sixty-eight year old Hue Hefner type would be into baggy board shorts and I’m not getting naked for a job, so…” There were little dimples at the small of his back.

Eames felt feverish. “You don’t want the poor man to have a heart attack, do you, darling?” He knew he would break the glass in his hand if he held onto it any longer. He had to keep his hands busy with _something_ , or else that speedo was getting ripped to shreds.

Arthur titled his head to the side, as if lost for a moment. Was it possible that Arthur really had no idea what he was doing to Eames?

Eames nearly lost it when Arthur blushed. “Ah, Eames, you might want to put that away before you poke someone’s eye out.”

He followed Arthur’s eyes down, trying his damndest not to stare at the man’s long legs. _Runner legs_. Gloriously long runner’s legs and—Oh. He was hard in his short swim shorts. Anymore and he’d be flashing Arthur and the projections. “Uh… Can you blame me, love?” He smiled, suddenly cheeky and unashamed. “You look... _illegally_ fuckable.”

Arthur’s dimples showed. “I’m not sure what that means.”

“Mn. Nor do I.” What were they talking about? He only knew that Arthur was smiling again.

But Eames didn’t miss the way Arthur tried not to ogle him back. Eames’d gone to the gym that morning to blow off steam. It showed here much more than it did topside. For a split second Arthur almost looked at him with… hunger?

Starved had to be the right word for it. If Arthur’s thinly veiled stare didn’t stop, he’d soon be able to commit Eames’ dog tags and tattoos to memory. 

Cosmic jokes could kiss his ass. “Never mind the bulge, darling—or do, I suppose. Let me buy you drink. What do you say?”

Arthur’s expression changed, a bit guarded now. He studied Eames for a long moment, searching for something, a motive perhaps. He bit his lip and at last agreed. He grabbed the shirt he’d been wearing topside from a chair near the pool and slipped into it, keeping it unbuttoned.  

Eames couldn’t be sure whether this made matters better or worse. Those back dimples still showed whenever the man leaned forward and his chest still taunted Eames to reach over for a nibble.

“So,” he asked, plucking up an easy conversation, “How long before his projections clear out? I see Cobb’s made his way over. Not sure if the mark’s even listening with the scrawny boy’s arse in his lap.”

Arthur hummed his agreement and finished his drink. “Looks like he’s taken an interest to Cobb. I honestly had no idea the mark would like his toys ignoring him this much.”

“Cobb looks pleasantly uncomfortable.”

“Definitely going to remember that look on his face.”

“So the mark’s got a cuckolding fetish,” Eames ordered another round. “That makes your job much easier, doesn’t it? All you’ve got to do now is grab his attention and end up in another man’s arms and he won’t know what hit him.” His knee touched Arthur’s. Surprisingly he didn’t move away.

Arthur tried not to blush into his new drink. “Only, there’s a problem with that. All the guys here are his toothpicks. I could bench press several of them at one time.”

Eames studied the bottom of his own glass. “Don’t be silly, Arthur…” When Arthur swallowed wrongly in surprise and look at Eames, ready to speak, he continued, “There’s always Cobb. He’s quite strapping, no?”

“Fuck you, Eames,” he chuckled.

“Oh? Fuck me? Why, yes Arthur. I was wondering when you’d ask.”

Arthur paused again for a moment. He placed his empty glass down and stood up to leave. Leaning in close to Eames’ ear, his hand touching the forger’s arm lightly, his only words were, “Fine. In ten minutes. Over there.” He pointed with his chin at the far end of the pool where floodlights glowed from behind the small waterfall and artificial rock face.

Eames turned to question, but Arthur had already disappeared.

+

He couldn’t wait ten minutes, not with a promise like that. He would end up drilling a hole into the bar’s countertop if his fingers tapped impatiently for a minute longer. He left after only six minutes.

Eames had to adjust and then readjust his cock in his shorts when he stood and made his way around the pool.

Arthur’s shirt was neatly folded on a stone under a small palm tree. If Mal and Cobb had gone up to the hotel room to look for the mark’s safe, he had no idea, his mind was singularly focused. He nearly pounced right there on the spot when Arthur swam up to the water’s surface near the edge of the pool.

Eames was rock hard again when he went under though no projections were close enough to notice. He followed Arthur under the waterfall, coming up for air in the small cave behind the curtain of water.

It made for one hell of a make out spot, illuminated by underwater lights and spacious only for two people with a step carved into the back rock slab for sitting. Eames’ bulky frame boxed Arthur into the step. He attacked the forger’s lips at once but turned docile when Eames kissed him back.

“I see your technique has improved,” Eames breathed against his jaw.

His head fell back, resting on the smooth rock slab behind him when Eames hands thumbed his nipples to attention. “This is a dream. I’m good at everything down here.”

“Touché. Then what other talents have you got to show me tonight, darling?”

“You’ll find out in a minute, won’t you,” he teased back.

Eames bit down hard on his neck reveling in the sound Arthur tried to muffle. He returned to the pointman’s lips fervently, his hands reaching around Arthur’s slim waist underwater. He palmed his ass through his swimsuit, kneading and massaging little gasps from Arthur’s parted lips. When long nimble fingers pulled open Eames’ shorts and freed his cock, the forger tugged his speedo to the side and slipped his head and shaft in, thrusting into the tight pull of the fabric.

“Oh, holy fuck, Arthur,” he moaned, feeling Arthur grin like a devil against his lips. Eames found his hole already slicked and opened when his fingers parted his ass. He sucked Arthur’s tongue into his mouth as his slipped two rough fingers inside, feeling his body squeeze around them when Arthur moaned in his arms.

“See,” Arthur breathed, “I did good, right?” He bit his lip to stifle the moans that followed when Eames curled his fingers just so.

“Yes, so perfect, pet.” But Arthur was still too tight. He planted little kisses over Arthur’s cheeks and neck when he forced in a third finger, no doubt stretching Arthur more than he’d ever been able to do to himself. “Damn you, naughty boy. Spoiling me like this. How could anyone ever compare, hm,” he muttered, grunting as he worked his fingers mercilessly over that electric spot, making Arthur purr.

Arthur was trembling, Eames’ assault on his prostate driving him dangerously close to the edge.

He freed his cock and Arthur’s, tugging the bikini briefs further out of his way. He wrapped Arthur’s legs around his waist and pushed, thrusting up in small increments until Arthur’s body relented.

“Fuck, Eames, careful. Please.” Arthur gripped his shoulders when Eames’ head entered him none too gently.

Eames had to stop and breathe for a moment. This was what he’d dreamt of for months; Arthur’s virginity was in his hands. He couldn’t ruin it, and rushing clumsily through it would definitely kill sex for Arthur forever.

“Easy lover,” he whispered into Arthur’s hair, still showering him with kisses. “That’s it, use that diaphragm and breathe for me.” Slowly, slowly he bottomed out.

Arthur rocked his hips gingerly. Eames’s hand gripped his hip hard enough to bruise trying to keep his hips from pumping forward until he was certain it was safe.

He knew the second he rocked into him when he’d touched that spot once more. Arthur’s legs held him tighter, seeking out that pleasure again.

Eames didn’t know what to do with himself, surrounded by Arthur’s heat. He was beautiful, trying to keep his eyes open to look at Eames, raking his fingers over his shoulders and laying kisses to his chest until his head fell back against the rock. Arthur cupped his hands over his mouth to stifle the endless stream of moans that issued from him now that Eames was riding his prostate into oblivion.

Arthur’s whine was heartbreaking when Eames pulled out and carefully turned him over. His knees spread as wide as he could when Eames sank back into him. The space was cramped like this, but he kept his head low and braced against the rock, ignoring the ache in his knees from the steps hard surface when Eames began to fuck him in earnest, growling and biting at the back of his neck.

Eames leaned back enough to watch his heavy cock slide in, fucking Arthur open more and more, as if watching himself disappear inside of Arthur’ tight body made him harder, his swell thicker.

“Eames,” Arthur couldn’t help but let it slip pass his lips when Eames’ hand covered his leaking cock under the water. He was so close, but the forger wouldn’t let him come just yet.

“Need to see you, lover,” he said, pulling out again, this time placing Arthur in his lap. He wrapped his arms around him, letting out a string of curses as Arthur’s hole squeezed him every other thrust, pushing him close to the edge as well.

He growled into Arthur’s shoulder, feeling him tremble around him until he bit into the forger’s neck and came. It shook Eames into a vicious release. He held Arthur to him rocking him gently as they tried to breathe.

Their hands were pruning, the water chilling their skin, when they at last found composure. Eames showered Arthur with more kisses and stroked his back adoringly.

+

Eames wasn’t sure if he’d fallen asleep with Arthur wrapped in his arms in the dream until the timer ran out or not, but when he blinked his eyes open and stretched, Arthur was already packing up the PASIV device, his ears pink as Cobb quietly unleashed a tirade about how he couldn’t believe that Arthur would forget to watch the mark or that “someone like Eames”—whatever that meant—could distract him so easily.

Arthur nodded, only half listening to Cobb’s hushed yelling as they left the mark still sleeping peacefully from the sedative.

Eames felt terrible and was about to tear Cobb’s head off for yelling at Arthur when he caught Mal’s poorly hidden grin. When she felt his eyes on her she glanced over quickly with a wink before handing Cobb her suitcase.

As much as he wanted to talk to Arthur they were in a rush to leave. He would have to think of something, in a month or two after whatever blowout from this failed extraction died down. He would kidnap Arthur, take him away from Cobb on a holiday where they could pick up where they’d left off.

That was, if Arthur even wanted another go. He still had yet to acknowledge Eames’ presence now that they were topside again. It wasn’t fair at all what that man did to Eames’ emotions, ringing him out on a constant roller coaster that never seemed to get Eames any closer—

Eames slammed the door to the cab closed and leaned forward to give the driver his instructions when a knuckle rapped on the window beside him. It was Arthur. He twirled his finger in a motion telling Eames to roll the window down.

When he did Arthur said nothing but dropped a tiny black bundle into his lap and disappeared to his own cab.

Eames knew what it was immediately, though the note and silver key wrapped inside the speedo was a nice touch.

_If you want to pick this up in a month, meet me in L.A. in five weeks. You’ll know where to find me._ — _AP_

 

**Author's Note:**

> For questions, inspiration tags, and more for this fic and others, visit grizzly-bear-bane.tumblr.com


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